C14 CHAPTER14

Devon strode swiftly through the night, his pace brisk, ensuring his hood was drawn tightly around his head. He preferred to remain unseen, but was confident that should anyone spot him, he could easily deflect their curiosity—after all, no one had the right to question him.

As he moved, Devon couldn't help but notice the unusually heavy security presence around the clan. More soldiers patrolled than usual, a clear sign that something was amiss.

The journey from the palace to his territory took roughly forty minutes, and by the time Devon reached the entrance, exhaustion had set in. Despite not possessing the same strength as his brothers and having absorbed the Soul Lock Bone, his descent from the skies had taken a toll on him. Yet, with his heart in such disarray, rest seemed like an elusive luxury.

He had to resolve this turmoil, once and for all.

Upon arriving at the entrance, the guards bowed in respect. Devon engaged them in casual conversation, inquiring about their day and praising their diligent efforts in safeguarding the territory, and by extension, the Clan. After exchanging pleasantries, he proceeded into his domain, noting that everything appeared to be running smoothly.

"Third Prince Devon, I greet you!" Kane's voice rang out as Devon entered the throne room. As the chief military officer and Devon's second-in-command, Kane wielded considerable Devil Energy, which made him the ideal candidate to lead the territory's defense, especially since Devon was... somewhat hindered by his human frailties.

"Thank you, Kane. How's your day going?" Devon asked, his smile strained. He maintained a strictly professional rapport with his subordinates, trusting none to truly support him in times of need. Their loyalty extended to him as their leader, but Devon was acutely aware that their allegiance to his father ran deeper.

"I'm well, Third Prince. It's unusual to see you here at this hour. Is everything alright?" Kane inquired, concern lacing his voice.

"Yes, everything's fine. I felt improved after my accident and wanted to check in on my territory," Devon responded, his tone even.

Kane nodded, a gesture of deference. "Understood, Third Prince. I'll accompany you throughout your patrol, should you require my assistance," he offered, ready to serve.

"No need, Kane," Devon said, raising his hand. "I'll handle it myself, but I won't hesitate to call on you if I need assistance or advice." With a dismissive wave, he signaled Kane to leave.

"Take care of yourself, Third Prince Devon," Kane replied before departing.

Devon nodded and continued to walk deeper into the shadows until he was certain he was alone. He then navigated the sharp turn toward the dungeon, sighing at the lengthy trek ahead. The dungeon was a ten-minute walk away, but he was undeterred, driven by the necessity of his task.

Upon arriving, the guards bowed in greeting. Devon returned the gesture and instructed them to prevent anyone from entering until he had finished interrogating the prisoners. With his orders given, he entered the dungeon.

Inside, it was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the typical cold and darkness of clan dungeons designed to torment and break the spirits of those imprisoned. But Devon's dungeon was different; it was well-lit, comfortably heated, and each cell was furnished with a bed and duvet. He even ensured the prisoners were fed twice daily without fail.

Devon couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of his father's reaction if he discovered the leniency here. The Royal Father would be shocked, likely calling his brothers to a meeting with Devon as the topic of concern. This was precisely why he insisted on exclusive access to the dungeon.

"Third Prince!" a guard called out upon spotting Devon.

"How are things?" Devon inquired, his expression serious.

"Everything is in order, Third Prince Devon. The prisoners are well, and their cells are securely locked to prevent any escapes," the guard reported, clearly pleased with himself.

"Good to hear. Thank you for your diligence. Where are the other guards?" Devon asked.

"Further down the hallway, Third Prince," the guard answered.

Devon gave a slow nod and proceeded down the corridor, requesting privacy as he prepared to meet with the prisoners.

"Third Prince Devon, are you certain you want to be left alone with these criminals?" inquired Kyle, the chief of the dungeon guards.

"Indeed, I wish to be alone with them. It's been ages since my last visit, and I intend for them to be acutely aware of my presence," Devon replied with a menacing tone. "I plan to torture them until they're groveling for mercy. And trust me, if you stick around, you'll find yourself pleading on their behalf!" His laugh was wild and chilling, and Kyle, though somewhat reluctantly, echoed it before exiting the dungeon.

Once Devon was confident he was unobserved, he allowed an eye roll of disdain. He sauntered down the corridor until he arrived at Cell 76.

"Greetings, Seymour," Devon called out with a hint of sardonic warmth.

"Hello, Prince Devon," came the response.